


Almost Strangers

by greygerbil



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Felix Alexius Lives, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:48:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27714982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greygerbil/pseuds/greygerbil
Summary: Felix is trapped in Redcliffe with his father and the Venatori cult, unsure where to turn for help until he notices they have caught the attention of Dorian Pavus, a fellow man from Tevinter he knows mostly by his terrible reputation. He decides that, with nothing to lose, he may as well take a chance on him.
Relationships: Felix Alexius/Dorian Pavus
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30
Collections: Heart Attack Exchange 2020





	Almost Strangers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Asymptotical](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asymptotical/gifts).



> For this AU, Dorian and Gereon just never happened to have their fateful meeting which sparked Gereon's interest in Dorian and so Dorian did not become his apprentice.

Felix needed a moment before he could put the name Dorian of House Pavus to the man who was watching their small group from the darkest corner of the tavern, glancing only every once in a while over the rim of his cup, but keeping his gaze on them every time he did. He looked more dishevelled than the last time Felix had seen him years ago, wore a short beard instead of the styled moustache Felix vaguely remembered, and his raven hair hung down to his chest in a ponytail that laid loosely draped over his shoulder. A ragged, shapeless, rough-spun wanderer’s cloak hid most of him from the neck down, but, slipping back when Pavus raised his cup, it revealed a tunic underneath which looked to have been of bright hues at some point, though it was now faded by wear.

Of the six in his group, no one but Felix seemed to have taken note of Pavus, which was no surprise. Felix figured it were just his overstrung nerves that made him so aware of any and all unnecessary details around him. The last week had provided heaps of kindling for paranoia. He still didn’t know how they had made it to Redcliffe, but even he, talentless as he was, had felt the way magic had twisted and beaten around them like a storm, and then they’d stepped out of Tevinter into Ferelden. He’d not been able to properly stand for a day afterwards, but even the healthy men and women around him had been dizzy and disoriented. His father wouldn’t say what had happened. “What is necessary,” he’d told Felix when he’d asked.

Felix had very little idea anymore what his father thought that meant.

If Felix wasn’t wrong, Pavus had been following them ever since a few days after they had arrived, though he couldn’t be sure it had been him and not another interested bystander – a whole troop of men and women from Tevinter in Ferelden headed by a magister who had ousted the village’s nobility from their own castle would naturally draw attention. Either way, Felix had caught glimpses of someone at the corner of his eyes, a quick movement among the villagers or a shape in a copse of trees or a deeper shadow in the shade of the small wood-and-stone houses. Why Dorian Pavus, who’d vanished from Tevinter years ago, might reappear in Ferelden to check on Felix’s father in Redcliffe was anyone’s guess, though.

As Felix looked at him, Pavus lifted his head again. Their eyes met and Felix quickly lowered his gaze back to the bread and cheese in front of him and worried at them with his knife, hoping he hadn’t made any of the guards sitting at the table with him aware of Pavus.

 _So what if he is watching us? It means nothing._ Most likely, Pavus was curious about the gaggle of his countrymen that had appeared so suddenly. He might even have an idea who had come with Felix’s father. Pavus was from Tevinter, after all, and his father’s dealings with these Venatori had taught Felix, just by the well-known names and faces streaking about their home, how deep the cult ran through the veins of their country. The thought made him feel cold again.

However, Pavus hadn’t been there in a long while and back when he’d been, he had never found many inroads with high society despite his noble birth and many other gifts; Felix had listened to him a couple of times at Circle debates and found him to be exceedingly smart, and stories of his magical talent, too. What Pavus had in brilliance, though, he lacked in adaptability. The scandals surrounding him ruled his life, until his infrequent visits to the Circles ceased entirely and he was only mentioned as someone strolling through taverns and brothels and noblemen’s bedchambers, finding ever new ways to shame his family’s name; until, after a brief return to his father’s estate, he was suddenly gone for good.

Felix knew more of him than he should, considering they had never spoken a word, but what he knew was because Pavus’s transgressions against their delicate society had been so great they had been the topic of wild gossip for a decade. Did he not seem like the type of man who would look upon such a very Tevinter problem as the Venatori with deserved suspicion? The hard-eyed, serious men and women wearing vestments of elder times and muttering chants and stories from the glory days seemed like exactly the kind of people Pavus would have dragged through the mud with verve back in the days of Circle debates. You could never have accused him of respecting tradition too much.

_But would he even know about the Venatori? If he does, maybe he sees them as his way back to Tevinter and into his family’s good graces. He’s as old as me now, he might have tired of revolt._

Felix clutched the knife harder. There was no way to find out and he couldn’t waste his time with distractions. His father had invited him to travel along for ‘important discussions with the mages of Ferelden’, but he felt like a hostage more than a son following his parent on business. Since they had left their home in Minrathous, he’d been almost constantly surrounded by people. His father had been protective ever since Felix had fallen ill, but this was a new level. Felix wanted to tell himself it was just because his father worried about the stress of travel weighing on Felix’s frail constitution, but he could not but notice that some of these new people with sigils and heraldry of old gods that were suddenly in their retinue looked at him too much. Then there was the very fact that his father had barely allowed him to leave the house back in Tevinter, yet had now taken him along on a journey clearly somehow aided by magic into an active war zone. His father had something in mind for him, it seemed, and he was not ready to let Felix endanger that plan with even one wrong step; and who knew if his acquaintances were truly on his father’s side or worked on their own goals. Felix trusted them less than he would a nest of angry snakes.

“Excuse me. I’m going to get some fresh air,” he said into the conversation of his companions, raising from his chair.

Silla and Marina, who sat closest to him, looked up in surprise at the sudden movement, but nodded their heads. Tonight, Felix had tagged along with some of the guards that he knew from home while his father was shut up in a room with the Venatori again. Before, Felix might have stayed in the castle in hopes of finding an opportunity to listen at the door, but he didn’t need to anymore, since their topics hadn’t changed since they had gotten here. For how monumental recruiting the mages should have been, it seemed an afterthought in their dealings in Ferelden. All they talked about was the Herald, the qunari woman who could close the rifts and had put herself at the head of a new Inquisition.

Felix left through a door in the back of the tavern. It was a damp, cool night like all he’d seen in Ferelden and he found himself by a field of wet corn bending under the drizzling rain. Holed up in the castle that his father and the cultists had torn from the rulers of Redcliffe, Felix had watched the village mostly from above so far. He had half a mind to take a walk to clear his head now, given the rare opportunity. Being surrounded by the murmurs of the Venatori was not good for his ability to think straight and he needed to find a way to contact someone, anyone who could help him figure out this situation, and quickly.

He took a few deep breaths and walked over to the low fence that surrounded the field, watching the trees beyond shiver in the wind.

“Fereldan weather is the original blight upon this land.”

Felix straightened. With the sound of the leaves in his ears, he hadn’t heard the door open again.

In the dim circle of light cast by a lantern creaking and swaying in the wind stood Pavus. The impish smile that was the detail Felix remembered most clearly about him was mostly hidden by his beard.

“You’re the little Alexius, then?” Pavus asked.

Felix’s name was not nearly as well-known as Dorian Pavus’s, as he’d spend most of his life in libraries and at his desk with his head over numbers, but everyone had heard it at least a few times. People back home pitied his wildly talented and successful parents for their defective offspring, and those expressions of compassion were honest because they were underlined with the fear that the same could happen to them. No one liked to be reminded that even the finest breeding couldn’t save you from happenstance.

“Yes. Felix, to be precise,” Felix said carefully as he turned to him. “You’re Dorian Pavus.”

“A name to scare children with,” Pavus said with a sharp edge to his voice. “I’m pleased to know you remember me, though a little ashamed to say I don’t know how you recognised me. Did we ever meet?”

“No. I watched you at the open debates in the Circle in Minrathous a few times.”

It didn’t surprise him Dorian had taken no notice of him. Felix had just been one more quiet man in the audience.

“That explains it. I’m not a strong enough person to have gone through these sober, so my memory is hazy,” Dorian said, walking up to him to lean against the low fence.

“How did you know who I was, then?”

“There aren’t that many Vints around the place, though much more than anyone should be comfortable with. You stick by your father’s side and I recognised him. Besides, your clothes are too nice for anyone but Gereon Alexius’s son. Tevinter guards aren’t dressed like this,” Dorian said. “That golden silk is from Rivain, isn’t it? Not a bad choice. I was never one for the chainmail-and-primary colours look so many favour in Tevinter, though.”

Felix had to smile. He hadn’t smiled in a while.

“How can I help you, Pavus? Did you come out here to give me fashion advice?”

Pavus rubbed his palm over his bearded chin. “Not something I would dare these days, considering my sorry state, no. Really, I just wanted to know how you ended up here?”

_He’s just curious, then. As I thought._

“Presumably, we came from Tevinter,” Felix said, his disappointment making him more sarcastic than he’d meant to be, though his voice remained friendly. Why should he have expected anything else from Pavus?

“Smart. Yet according to a couple of your people I roped into a conversation, they don’t remember most of the road, and they seem to be under the impression they made it here in under a day. They can’t all have been drunk, can they?” Pavus raised a brow. “Your father wouldn’t have anything to do with that?”

Felix wondered at the shrewd gaze resting on him, until he remembered that back in the day, Pavus, too, had been researching temporal magic, the area Felix’s father had been most involved in before he threw all his genius behind the futile task of curing Felix. However, Pavus’s irregular attendance at any Circle and flaunting of Tevinter’s rules had resulted in scattered and piecemeal research and he’d never gone deep enough that his father and Pavus had even talked, from what Felix remembered.

Still, this wasn’t just completely aimless questioning. It seemed Pavus had gotten an idea into his head. Who knew what he had been spending his time with, besides? Felix knew better than anyone that even if the nobility of his country liked to believe so, all worthwhile knowledge of the world was not concentrated in Tevinter Circles alone; and just because he hadn’t wanted to play the social games didn’t mean Pavus couldn’t have seen publications, either.

Despite that, when Felix opened his mouth, it was to brush him off. He stopped himself, wondering why. It seemed the secretive air around him was slowly making him paranoid. If his father really had managed to jump them forward in the journey, who said it needed to be hushed up? Felix knew that had he asked his father if he should talk about it, the answer would likely have been ‘no’, but he hadn’t and could play naive. His father had used to hold classes on the theory of time travel, so his involvement with that sort of magic shouldn’t come as a surprise. Perhaps Pavus could even help him figure out what had happened.

“If you’re hoping that I can tell you a spell, I don’t know more than the guards. I was locked in a closed carriage at the time. In fact, wouldn’t you know more than me about a missing piece of time?”

“Oh, it’s been a _long_ while since I was close to a library,” Pavus said dismissively, but Felix could hear in his eager voice that the topic was not as far away as he tried to make it sound. “I don’t know what your father has come up with in the last few years, either.”

“Not much on that topic, not until lately,” Felix said.

It had always been painful to walk into his father’s study and see all his father’s brilliant theories laid to final rest in favour of chimaeras. A little while ago, he had picked up some of his research again and Felix had hoped it was a good sign, but he feared he knew better now. It seemed his father hadn’t idly gone back to those hypotheses.

“Do you think that kind of magic would be possible? I don’t think my father ever got it to work. Did you?” Felix asked.

“No,” Pavus admitted. “And I was only trying to make flowers grow faster or un-spoil apples. It would need a whole lot more power than what I couldn’t summon to move an entire retinue across several countries.”

“I can’t give you an answer where he would have gotten that,” Felix said honestly. “Except...”

He raised his eyes to the swirling green hole in the sky. Dorian stared up, too.

“Really?”

“At least my father is surrounded by people who talk of little else these days,” he said quietly.

He just wanted to tell _somebody_ and in truth, no one had specifically told him he couldn’t do that, either.

“Venatori?”

Felix looked up wide-eyed. “How did you know?”

Pavus shrugged his shoulders.

“Lucky guess. They’re popular right now if you know the wrong people to talk to. I heard some whispers hanging around in Kirkwall’s Darktown that they’d showed up in Ferelden. That’s what originally got me here. I wanted to see what that merry band would want in this place of all places.” He shrugged. “They tried to pick me up, too, not too long ago. I used to be quite a magical talent back in the day if you can believe it. Told me I could rule in Tevinter again if I threw in with them. Bad recruitment tactics,” he added, raising his hands in theatrical despair. “My father can give me the same and I’ve dodged his offers all my life. Their promises seemed even more poisoned.”

The original poison that had prevented Pavus’s rise to the position he was given by birth was rumoured to be his interest in men, or rather, the way he dealt with it. Had he agreed to marry a suitable woman and not paraded his favourite male slave or servant around too blatantly, few would have objected, likely not even his wife. However, Pavus had refused to star in such a play. Hearing about Pavus’s rebellion for the first time, Felix had fallen prey to a surprise he may not have felt were he not from Tevinter, where callous pragmatism was the norm. Most people in Tevinter found Pavus’s wild disavowal of compromise a childish and disproportionate overreaction. Felix, however, could not but admire it. Apparently, his steadfastness had once more kept Pavus from a bad choice, too.

“I think they’re dangerous,” Felix said.

It was a risk, he knew, because in the end, he had no idea if Pavus wasn’t lying, wasn’t a Venatori spy sent to test him. Still, why would the Venatori care what he thought of them? He’d been quiet so far, had only made attempts to dissuade his father in private and those hadn’t been successful. He wasn’t a threat. He just wanted to be one.

“Power-hungry Tevinter supremacist magisters and consorts usually are. You think these ones are special somehow? Seems like your father just used his chance to nab all these tattered southern mages.”

Pavus’s voice had a habitual irreverence to it, but he still looked closely at Felix. It seemed he was willing to entertain the idea that Felix was not just hysterical.

“They’re very interested in this Herald, the woman who can close the rifts. They were so desperate to get here fast to intercept the mages before her Inquisition could. I don’t know what they want with her, but – she is connected to the tearing of the Veil, isn’t she?”

“You think they might have something to do with that? I mean, not just drawing power from it, but ripping it all apart in the first place?” Pavus asked, slightly awed, as he glanced up at the sky again.

“I don’t know, but I’ve considered it.”

Felix took a deep breath of the cold air, which bit at his always sore throat. Pavus still stared up in contemplation. Perhaps he was just intrigued enough that Felix could place a little hope in him, after all. 

“I don’t know your business here, but do you maybe have time to find out more?”

Pavus’s brows shot up. “Why me? Aren’t _you_ travelling with them?”

“I do, but they keep me in the dark, most of all my father. I can hardly even go out on my own. I certainly won’t be able to find out anything about the Herald the Venatori don’t want me to know.” He shook his head. “At the very least I think she should be warned. I know my father wants to speak to her and,” his voice almost faltered, but Felix pushed himself to say the truth, “I don’t trust him at this point.”

Pavus hesitated, again looked up. The faint green light that kept the night from ever growing dark now cast deep shadows on his furrowed brow. It smoothed when he turned to Felix, a smirk hiding the graver emotion Felix had glimpsed the moment before.

“I can never say no when handsome men beg,”

“So you won’t help me?” Felix asked with a friendly smile, tone eased much by his crushing relief.

He couldn’t be sure yet Pavus would really be of assistance, after all, but much more than in his own persuasiveness, he believed in the concern he had seen in his eyes.

Pavus laughed.

“Nonsense. You just need a little more sleep and I would have collected you right in the tavern,” he said. “Do you think you can find any notes on what your father did to get here? Just so that I can get an idea of what we’re dealing with. ”

Felix realised that the second thing that everybody knew about him in Tevinter – that he was infected with the blight – was something that had happened after Pavus had vanished from all gossip and, by rumour, the country. It was almost refreshing to speak to someone who did not know about that cloud hanging over his head, that his pallid skin and the dark circles under his eyes were not the results of a few unduly long nights.

“If he brought any, I will try. I don’t know if I can come here again, though.” He thought for a moment. “You talked to our men, so you know my father took over Redcliffe Castle. I might be able to slip out after sunset for a little bit. There’s trees at the southern wall under which we could meet, perhaps tomorrow?”

“You think I shouldn’t be seen?”

“It’d be better if you weren’t.” Felix straightened. “As I said, I think they’re dangerous. _This_ is dangerous. I’m asking a lot, I know.”

“From a man you _don’t_ know. Why is that?”

“I’m afraid I’m out of options. Begging isn’t so rare, though. You’re the one agreeing to help a stranger.”

Pavus smiled, waving Felix’s words away with his hand.

“I simply had nothing else planned and this promises to be an interesting mystery. Besides, one does feel a little insulted when our countrymen decide to visit only to prove every single prejudice right,” he said. “I can’t make any promises, though. I’ve been in Ferelden a few times, but the war hasn’t made this country easier to navigate. It might be I won’t hear any more about the Herald or her little posse than you do.”

Felix nodded his head and was just about to assure Pavus that he was very grateful for his help regardless when the tavern’s back door opened again. Before he had even enough time for fear to set in, however, the air moved next to him, rushed to fill an empty spot, and around the corner of the tavern he just saw Pavus stepping out of the Fade again and vanishing into the underbrush.

“Are you alright, Felix?” Marina asked.

“Yes, of course.” Felix put on his brightest smile as he pushed off the wooden fence and wiped his damp hands on his dark breeches. “Just got lost in thought. Did you want to head back to the castle?”

-

Pushing one hand under his cloak, Felix checked again that both scrolls still were in the pocket where had put them. To his surprise, his father had brought quite a bit of his research, though shoved in a haphazard manner among his baggage, which now sat in the study adjacent to his bedroom. Felix had hung back after a conversation to rest in an armchair, claiming it was very comfortable, and his father had muttered about relocating it to his room before he’d hastened out to yet another meeting with his new associates. The fact that he still cared so much had made Felix feel plenty of guilt as he dug hastily for the most up-to-date notes, but it hadn’t stopped him. Luckily, his father had always been in the habit of neatly dating his writings and until just a couple of weeks ago, he’d put aside his research into temporal magic, so the latest notes were easy to identify. Felix could only hope that his father would not miss them, but it didn’t seem like he had plans to move away from here at least until the Herald appeared, so he might not need them soon.

An icy wind pressed against him, making him shiver. He stared into the dark between the thick old trees that were only allowed to grow a few feet from the wall so that no assassin could use them as a ladder into Redcliffe Castle. If Pavus took these papers for his own research and never showed up again, at least Felix could tell himself he had tried all that he could. He realised this would be cold comfort if things went as completely awry, as his most desperate fantasies threatened they might, but as he’d told Pavus, he had little choice.

“This is nostalgic. The last time I had to meet a man in secret like this, I was also involving a high-born Tevinter son in scandalous dealings.”

“I’d rather be meeting for a tryst,” Felix murmured with a faint smile.

Pavus stepped out parting two dense bushes. His hair was open this time, wind-swept and wild. Dry leaves stuck to his worn traveller’s cloak.

“Wouldn’t we all. Did you find anything?”

Felix handed him the two scrolls. “This is his latest research. It’s about transportation through time to cover space, so it looked relevant, too.”

“Excellent. I’ll see what I can do with this.” Pavus looked down at the scrolls with an expression that was remorseful for only one moment. “It has been a few years since I last handled this sort of thing, but I’m reasonably sure can’t have forgotten everything.”

“I’m certain you haven’t,” Felix said, hoping he was right, as he tugged the cloak tighter around himself.

“In any case, I’ll have to remember it quickly. The Herald is already in the Hinterlands.”

“Really?”

“She’s been here for a while, actually. Met with some Chantry mother, the way it was told to me. For now, she’s apparently trying to put a stop to the bleeding in the valley and get the mages and Templars who are still fighting in line.”

“You’ve been busy,” Felix said, unable to hide that he was impressed.

Pavus gave him a crooked grin. “You didn’t think I would be? Don’t worry, I’m only mostly as bad as my reputation.”

“No, that’s not what I meant.” Though Felix couldn’t say that he hadn’t worried Pavus wasn’t as good as his word, his doubts hadn’t been based on fears that Pavus was flighty or lazy, just that he might have no true interest to help. He elected to omit that fact, though. “It’s just that you already know a lot for one day.”

“People talk, especially if you know how to make them – and I don’t mean the less than hospitable ways our Venatori friends might use. A little charm goes a long way. I’m just worried that this Herald is Qunari. They don’t usually sweet-talk, especially not with Vints.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “She’s Tal-Vashoth, though, so we might have a chance of her trusting us despite our heritage.”

“We at least have to try, yes. If she’s suspicious of Tevinter, she would also be suspicious of my father, so that’s something.”

“I see you’re an optimist.” Pavus smiled as he pocketed the scrolls. “Meet you back here tomorrow? I think we shouldn’t drag our feet too much. She might on our doorstep soon.”

“Yes, you’re right.”

“Always,” Pavus said with a smile. “Now run on, you’ve been shivering like a twig. I wouldn’t want you to catch your death out here.”

Briefly, Felix wondered where Pavus would go. He’d said he’d been in Kirkwall, but was that where he lived? Had his home been destroyed in one of the many fights after the explosion of the southern Circles? Did he even have one, or was he still the same leaf in the wind he had been back in the day?

It was none of his business, of course. He was lucky enough that Pavus lent him a hand.

“I will see you tomorrow,” he just said.

-

The next night, sneaking out was not quite as easy as it had been the first time. Where the guards had been playing at dice when he left and had moved on to cards when he’d scurried back inside, they stood on their posts tonight. Felix had to allow twenty minutes of chatting to make it seem like he had nowhere to be and gently turn down their offers for an escort several times, even while he understood that none of them wanted to be responsible for losing him in the woods. Thankfully, Rabius, a man who had been in his father’s retinue longer than Felix was alive, finally let him slip out. “The lord’s locked up in here at all hours of the day. Even if you’re sick you need a moment to yourself sometimes.”

Felix felt even guiltier than he had in front of his father as he walked past Rabius.

The moon was already high in the sky and Felix hurried as soon as he was out of view of the guards, making for the treeline as fast as he could. Wet grass and pulpy leaves slipped under his feet and his heart beat in his throat. It was too dark to see if anyone was watching him from the battlements.

He slowed his step when he was at the spot where Pavus had last found him, between three thick old trees that stood so close their branches intertwined. In the dark, it was difficult to see. Felix flicked his fingers, creating a small blue flame that died quickly on his skin. This was the height of his magic talent.

“I thought you’d leave me hanging.”

Pavus leaned a few feet away under a tree with low branches, only a deeper shadow in the failing illumination of Felix’s magic fire. The weight on Felix’s shoulders lifted a little. He had nothing more to give to Pavus, so there was no reason for him to come here again but that he truly wanted to help.

Felix ducked under the leaves to join him.

“I had a little trouble getting out. I did hear rumours in the village there was another way into the Castle but through the front door. I haven’t found it yet, though. I don’t know if it really exists.” Felix took a deep breath. “Well, enough of that. How did you fare with my father’s research?”

“Not much better. It doesn’t seem different from the theories he was talking about years ago, which doesn’t bode well.”

“What do you mean?”

Pavus stepped away from the tree. “I have a theory how this might have worked. If your father hasn’t made any substantial progress, but still committed to travelling with the help of time magic, he must have known there was something he could draw on – like, and I’m just making guesses here, a great magic instability caused by the Veil being torn to pieces.”

Felix’s stomach sank, even though he’d made the same guess not long ago.

“It’s unlikely he just saw a random chance,” he said, knowing Pavus’s next words already.

“It’s also unlikely he made it work without any outside help. No one I’ve talked to in the last month has any idea what this hole really is or how to deal with it and your father somehow accessed it from three roads out of Minrathous, the way it sounds. It would have been one damn good shot in the dark.”

“You think the Venatori were behind the explosion at the Temple of Sacred Ashes? That they did this on purpose?”

“I can’t be sure. This doesn’t really look like something that went the way anyone wanted it to go, but yes, I think it’s a safe bet to say they were involved.” Pavus hesitated. “I know he’s your father, but...”

“No,” Felix said resolutely. “It makes sense.”

Pavus looked at him sideways, as if he wasn’t sure if Felix could be trusted not to break down, after all, but Felix schooled his expression to be calmer than he felt.

“Is my memory particularly wine-soaked here, or was your father one of the more reasonable magisters in the past? He wasn’t a warmonger, at least, from what I remember. And no offense, but you aren’t assassinated or locked in some attic, which speaks for him.”

“He was,” Felix said quietly.

“So what happened?” Pavus prompted. “You don’t seem like it’s news to you that he changed.”

“I didn’t know about the Venatori until recently, but I don’t think they were what prompted it. I think it was the darkspawn attack – when my mother died and I contracted the blight. He might have managed to live with my mother’s death, and sometimes I think he may even have recovered had I died, too. This hope he has that he can save me is what’s destroying him.”

Pavus stared at him. “You’re tainted?”

“Yes. I don’t have long. I would have had less time if my father had not spent all his knowledge and resources keeping me alive for the last three years. However, I grow weaker with each year, each month. He tries to tell me there will be a way, but I know there isn’t.” Irritated by his own nervous pacing, Felix sat down on a moss-covered stone. “If you’re looking for a reason, then I suppose I am that. It’s easy to seduce a desperate man to a cause.” He pressed his lips into a thin line. “Maybe he finally found a purpose for after I’m gone.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

Between the joking, posturing, and bluster, the real feeling in Pavus’s voice was new. Felix tried a smile.

“I’m fine. Obviously, I’d rather not die, but I know it’s inevitable. I would have preferred a shorter life if its end had been less overcast, but I understand it’s difficult to lose a child. My father is the one who has to stay behind. There’s lines you cannot cross, though. All this, the Venatori and these mages! He always paid for workers rather than using slaves, and suddenly he conscripts hundreds of people into servitude. Not to mention what else he might have done.” He breathed out, trying to quell a rising panic in his chest. Pavus’s theories had all come to him before, but hearing them out of someone else’s mouth made them real. He could not but peer up at the poison-green glow through the leaves. “Does this make me responsible for-”

“Your father’s actions are his own,” Pavus said with surprising vehemence that softened into a more playful tone. “Besides, did you already forget that you’re out here meeting with a shady runaway to stop him?”

Despite everything, Felix had to grin. “I don’t know how brave that is. So far, you don’t live up to your bad reputation.”

“What? I’m offended. Don’t tempt me into doing something unwise. I have to warn you, little Alexius, I’ve been forced to be unusually responsible here, so it would be very easy to fall off the wagon.”

Felix laughed. “Your reputation didn’t mention that you’re kind,” he said, half to himself, as he got to his feet again, trying to pull himself together in that motion.

“Kind?” Pavus huffed. “No, I don’t imagine it would.”

“It should.” After all, that was quite obvious now, considering Pavus had heeded Felix’s plea for help when there was no reason to, and seeing how quickly he had pivoted to try to cheer Felix up, even with jokes at his own expense. However, Felix sensed he would not get Pavus to agree. He shoved his cold hands under his cloak as he nodded at him, cutting off the squabble: “Should we meet again, let’s say in three days? I’m not quite sure how we should prepare for the Herald’s arrival, but maybe you or me will find out something.”

“Sounds like as much of a plan as we can have for now,” Pavus answered. “I agree with you that we need to get our hands on the Herald somehow and warn her about the Venatori. Allegedly, she might eventually drop in to meet the mages, since she’s been hip-deep in that mess for a while.” He hesitated before he smiled and added: “I’ll see you then. Don’t get into trouble, alright? Not to insult your father, but it seems you’re not exactly surrounded by peaceful lambs up there in the castle.”

“I’ll do my best,” Felix promised. “You take care, too.”

“Oh, where would be the fun in that?”

Pavus winked and turned around, his cloak billowing behind him.

-

With all his remaining strength, Felix pushed up against the wooden boards. Sweat was running down his neck and his knees were shaking after the long trek from the castle through the cramped underground passage, but he was not going to give up so close to the goal.

Finally, the trap door over his head gave, pebbles and dirt falling on his head as it opened. Glancing at the rusted, intricate lock that hung off the wood, Felix judged that the entrance had been locked by a complicate mechanism once upon a time. In the light of his weak magic flicker, Felix saw an imprint of a signet, perhaps the size that would fit upon a ring, a seal, or on a pendant hanging from a necklace. However, it was broken and only old metal now.

Felix hauled himself out of the hole and quickly shut the trap door, checking briefly that he was alone before covering it again with debris and earth, pushing the patches of moss and grass he’d ripped apart back into place, and covering it all with the wet leaves that laid about his feet. Looking around, it took him a few moments to realise that he was in the old, caved-in mill that stood looking over the village of Redcliffe.

_This might come in handy._

Felix stumbled out of the ruin, heart pounding as he ducked behind the bushes, then hurried between the nearby trees to make it less obvious where he’d emerged from.

It was a few minutes into his hasty walk when he heard movement in the underbrush. His quick breath stopped. He was far enough from the mill now that he likely wouldn’t be questioned by a human, but it occurred to him that he didn’t know how to defend himself against an animal. That dagger at his belt wouldn’t do much good while his hands were shaking with exhaustion.

“Fancy meeting you here.”

Pavus emerged from between the branches. His cloak was open this time, revealing the faded clothes underneath. He wore a scuffed leather jerkins, too, cheap warrior mage armour. Felix’s shoulders sank as he gave a sigh of relief, then laughed at Pavus’s questioning gaze.

“It’s you! I was afraid you were a boar.”

“Excuse me? I realise my time outside the motherland has left me a little rugged, but I object strongly to that image.” Pavus looked Felix up and down. “Besides, you look a lot more like you’ve been rolling in the dirt than me, little Alexius.”

“I found a passage from Redcliffe Castle to the old mill,” Felix said, not quite able to hide his excitement.

Pavus’s mouth opened wordlessly.

“I’ve been living next to a secret entrance to the castle this whole time?” he asked, aghast.

“It’s well hidden – it was overgrown. I only found the other side because I couldn’t sleep and was wandering about the castle.”

“You might just have found a way to keep the Herald from getting stuck in that bear trap of a fortress if she has to run. That, or maybe we could even get someone in to help...”

Felix nodded his head. “Where did you come from, though? Do you live in the village?”

“A little way out of it. I took over an abandoned house – it probably has been empty for years, judging by the layer of dust I found there,” Pavus said quickly, moving the topic away with a gesture before Felix could ask more questions. “More importantly, you have to show me this secret entrance.”

Felix nodded his head. However, as Pavus stepped up to him, he noted the sharp smell of alcohol on his breath.

“Are you sure I shouldn’t show you tomorrow?”

“Why? Ah...” Pavus seemed to read from the awkward smile on Felix’s face. “Don’t worry, I’m lucid. Too much wine is my baseline. This isn’t even drunk for my standards.”

“I guess there are a lot of reasons to drink right now,” Felix admitted.

“And they multiply each day!” Pavus paused for a moment, then added in a quieter voice: “I saw a rift outside the town today. I’ve seen other rifts – can’t escape them these days. This one was different, though. Things acted strangely. They were slowed or sped up around it. I think the magic your father is using is affecting the torn  
Veil.”

Felix was not a great mage, but he knew enough about magic theory that this made his skin crawl.

“I can’t imagine why he would want to mess with the rifts.”

“Maybe he’s drawing magic from the rifts themselves, which is just an _awful_ idea. However, I could also imagine that whatever magic he using is starting to unravel reality in ways he did not plan.” Pavus grinned lopsidedly. “I sincerely hope whatever scraps of his research I picked up at Circle parties are going to stand up to this if they have to.”

Perhaps the drink did affect Pavus more than he realised, for this was the first time that Felix could tell he was nervous, from the way his fingers picked at the faded threads of his tunic and how his gaze seemed unable to find anything to settle on.

“My father hasn’t been a model scholar in a while, either, and from what little I remember of you from the Circles, I think you’re very much his match in intelligence,” Felix answered truthfully.

“Now who is being kind?”

Felix chuckled.

“You’re really taking that as an insult, aren’t you? I’m sorry, I’m not taking it back.”

“Careful, little Alexius. Someone might think you are flirting.”

“And what if they did?” Felix answered easily.

“Well, well. Here I thought you were a good boy. Never heard of you causing a single scandal, aside from being born.”

The vague words they used reminded Felix a lot of Tevinter. Flirting between two men or two women always hid behind humour and allusions. Even though they were trudging through a Fereldan forest, Felix realised this habit was hard to shake off. 

“I admit I wasn’t looking for opportunities. I figured since I _had_ committed being born, it was best if I focused on my studies, even if they weren’t going to get me much attention in Tevinter.” He smiled. “Sometimes, I wished I’d had a friend or relative who’d push me to be braver. When I was old enough to realise I should have done it myself instead of waiting for someone to drag me by the hand, I was already sick.” He glanced back at Dorian. “Imagine, we could have met earlier. It might have been fun.”

“We missed out! I’m shocked to learn someone with such a sweet tongue didn’t practice, though.”

“I apologise if I made you uncomfortable.”

“The idea of you being debauched enough that you could make me uncomfortable is frankly amusing. You don’t have any worse than calling me ‘kind’?” Pavus teased.

“I could point out that that the long hair suits you and that your traveller’s garb should make you seem unkempt, yet you only look like the best sort of person to talk to at a tavern by the road.”

Pavus made a show of considering the words. “Not bad. I do enjoy compliments, but that was hardly outrageous. See, if I wanted to make a man blush, I might tell him of the things I expect to find under his,” he glanced at Felix, “yellow tunic and brown breeches.”

“More dirt from the passage, first of all. It was very muddy.”

Pavus laughed. “Trying to goad me into talking about baths, I see.”

“I’m just going to pretend I’d thought of that, yes.”

They had reached the ruins of the mill again. Felix glanced around to check if they were still alone before he clambered over the broken stones, Dorian following close behind. Felix leaned down to dig his fingers between the wooden boards and soft ground, lifting the trap door slightly.

“Here we go. Can you hide it after I go down?”

“Of course.” Pavus reached out and held the door open for him. “I don’t have any information of this value to offer, but I know definitely the Herald is heading this way now. She’s going to meet with the mages and I’m sure your father will be around for that. Maybe you can pass a message for her to meet us, too? I think it’ll hold more water if it comes from someone connected to Alexius. I can’t claim I am.”

“Do you know a good place in Redcliffe where we could meet in private?”

“There’s a chantry here that has been empty since the sisters fled. The lock is no match for my ill-gotten skills. Direct her there and see if you can’t slip away from your father, too.”

“That’s a good idea.”

Pavus watched as Felix made his way down. However, Felix’s tired legs were not carrying him well anymore, and so he fell half the way, landing with an audible thud in the dirt.

“Everything alright down there?”

“Yes, don’t worry,” Felix muttered, shaking his head 

“Don’t break down in the passageway. I think your father and the Venatori might find it, too, if they start turning the castle upside down looking for you.”

“Don’t worry, I’m used to this.” Felix glanced up at Pavus standing over the open trap door and smiled. “And thank you for indulging me tonight. I haven’t flirted in a while and I didn’t think I’d get another chance.”

The thought of his own death had been so near for so many years that Felix needed a moment to grasp why Pavus’s face fell as he understood what Felix meant. However, Pavus quickly retrieved his smile again.

“Don’t make it sound like I’d only take up with you out of pity,” Pavus said. “I pride myself in being very honest in my lechery.”

Felix chuckled. “Good. Keep safe out there and watch out for the Herald. We probably won’t speak again before she arrives, but when she comes to meet the mages, I’ll try to convince my father to take me.”

“I have faith in you,” Pavus said like he meant it.

-

Their faith in each other did not turn out to be misplaced. Felix managed to get the Herald to the chantry, and there, Pavus’s quick tongue did great work to convince her not to trust his father blindly. When his father called her to a meeting at the castle, Pavus got her to send a few of her own soldiers through the passageway alongside him, where Felix greeted them at the other end and stashed them away in one of the many rooms that laid unused by his father’s party. It was close enough to the hall in which he knew his father would want to greet the Herald while sitting on the throne that Pavus and the Inquisition soldiers would be able to get in unnoticed.

Watching his father lying through his teeth was just as uncomfortable as it had been for weeks, since his father had refused to tell him even a little of the truth of what was happening here and was now spinning some story for the Herald, too. Felix was almost grateful that, if nothing else, this would soon be over one way or the other.

Maybe that was why he was the one to break the charade as the Herald and his father were still negotiating terms that Felix knew his father would not keep to.

“She knows everything, father.”

His father looked up at him with a frown.

“Felix – what have you done?” 

His voice carried a warning, but no fear at all, which set Felix’s blood running cold. He could only hope this was just because his father did not know about the people waiting in the wings, who, if everything had gone right, already stood at the hall’s doors listening for their cue now.

Before Felix could answer, his father was distracted by the Herald, who seemed to agitate him with just her voice. He rose as he began speaking of the mark to her, with too much authority to pretend that he had nothing to do with this, with all of this, that he was just a pawn who had been made to do someone else’s bidding, and with a contempt for the woman that seemed almost personal. Felix felt like throwing up.

“Father, listen to yourself. Do you know what you sound like?”

“He sounds exactly like the sort of villainous cliché everyone expects us to be.”

With those words, Pavus stepped forward between the columns and Felix knew that the Inquisition soldiers had to be hiding in the hall. He swallowed his breath of relief.

His father stared at Pavus, obviously needing a moment to recognise him at all.

“Dorian Pavus?” he asked, confused. “What are you doing in Ferelden?”

“I’m trying to help your son fix the mess you’ve made. There are, in fact, people from Tevinter who would also like time and space not to be torn asunder.”

“The Elder One has power that much outpaces even the imagination of a mind of a failure such as you,” Felix’s father said dismissively. “He will raise the Imperium from its own ashes.”

Pavus stared at Felix, who could only shake his head. He stepped forward, between his father and all the others in the room, hoping to catch his eye even as its hard gaze seemed to go through him.

“Father, you are not this man. You told me you wanted the Imperium to focus on developing our greatness from within. What is this madness? Let the southern mages close the breach and let’s go back.”

Suddenly, his father’s expression crumbled, yet only for a moment.

“It’s the only way, Felix. He can save you.”

The despair that had come over Felix mixed with a sudden burst of furious frustration.

“Save me?!”

Was that what it all been about, again? He could hardly hear the next words his father was saying for the ringing in his ears; something about that the Elder One would heal him if the mistake at the temple was fixed. He almost did not care for the details anymore, gruesome as they were.

“I’m going to die. You need to accept that,” he said over his father’s words.

His father pushed him gently but firmly out of the way.

“The Elder One demands this woman’s life.”

That was when the Inquisition soldiers stepped forward like shadows, taking out the Venatori guards his father had stationed around the hall, moving on silent feet. Felix hoped no assassin would drop from the rafters on top of his father; but in the same thought, he could not deny that he would have deserved such a fate.

With a scowl, his father suddenly pulled an amulet from under his tunic, which was already charged with crackling energy. Felix did not know what it was, but the way Pavus’s eyes widened, he had recognised it immediately. 

“No!”

Magic burst forth from Pavus’s hand as well, an uncoordinated, wide-spanning explosion that hit Felix in its wake, slamming him sideways into his father and onto the field around the amulet. Felix shouted out loud as something inside him seemed to stretch and contract his muscle and bone and innards like they were so much soft clay, and then he dropped to the ground struggling for air.

As he opened his eyes again, his father leaned over him and the Herald’s companions, a wandering elf and a dwarf carrying a crossbow taller than himself, were staring at the empty spot where the Herald and Pavus had stood.

“Felix!” his father called.

Felix opened his mouth to say he was alright, but no sound would escape him. His entire body was shaking with barely-contained energy, racing through his marrow and veins. It felt like no magic that had ever touched him before, good or ill.

As he’d just managed to clamber to his knees, his father pulling him up, there was another burst of sound and a great hole spreading black smoke like a blazing fire had the Herald and Pavus tumbling back through it into the room.

They looked much worse for the wear, bruised and bloodied, clothes and armour torn, and considering that apparently some sort of displacement had been at work, it was hard to say how long they had been gone – for all Felix knew, it could have been just the minutes that had passed here, or a month, or a year. Nothing was certain when the pillars that held the world started falling.

But they were here again, and Pavus was clutching the amulet his father had tried to use against them in one red-stained hand.

“You almost got me there, I’ll admit. Not good enough, though,” he gasped, sinking to the ground.

Meanwhile, the Herald marched towards Felix’s father. Even wounded, she was no less intimidating, and in fact the bleeding cut across her face that went up from her chin to her left horn only made her look more fierce.

However, the fight had gone out of his father. He sank to his knees by Felix’s side.

“Felix...”

“It’s going to be alright, father,” he said, his voice as steady as he managed to make it.

It was going to be alright. This was over.

“You’ll die.”

Perhaps it was the first time his father had acknowledged it. If only he had done so earlier.

“Everyone dies,” Felix reminded him gently.

Then the Inquisition soldiers moved in and took them both away. Felix threw a glance over his shoulder, hoping that someone would take care of Pavus, who looked ready to collapse.

-

“So that spell didn’t go quite as I’d planned.”

Felix looked up from the copy of _Hard in Hightown_ a friendly Inquisition guard had given him so he would not be too bored on his sickbed in the empty hut. Because of his status as Alexius’s son, he was shut off from the rest of the wounded in the camp, with a lax guard stationed at the door, but considering his plight got him a warm fire and some protection from the frightened stares of all who knew who Felix’s father was and what he’d done, it was not the worst place to be in.

Pavus had been patched up by a healer, though he still wore some bandages and had a few open scratches and scrapes. He stood in the middle of the doorframe, not quite in the room yet.

“It went well enough, I would say. You stopped whatever my father was trying to do.”

“I’d rather have managed that without sending you flying ten feet, considering you’re already not in the best shape. It’s just been a long while that I have worked with this sort of magic – and back then, it was all theory. I’m sorry.”

As it seemed clear now Felix bore him no ill will, Pavus closed the door behind himself. Felix got up from his bedstead and offered him a seat at the empty table before he took a seat himself.

“Don’t worry about it. I heard the Herald say that you used temporal magic again where you ended up?”

Pavus snorted.

“I had to cobble together a solution to get us back. Wouldn’t have been able to do it if we hadn’t been able to grab the amulet from that version of your father there. I’ll say this, that part of the adventure gave me opportunity to appreciate that the Herald picked good companions so far. Three of them died defending me while I was trying to dredge up research I did on-and-off six years ago.”

“That’s impressive work,” Felix pointed out, and added, after a small pause to collect his courage: “You really went into the future?”

Pavus nodded his head. “A year ahead, I think. But before you ask... this is not going to be a fun story for you, little Alexius.”

“Very little of this has been a fun story for me,” Felix said.

“Right.” Pavus tugged at the bandage around his wrist. “Well, it was absolute chaos, as you’d imagine it might be if the only person who can close the rifts just happened to be plucked out of the world right now. The Veil was in tatters, we met people infused with red lyrium, a dragon or something kept roaring over the castle as the whole building was partially falling into the Fade, demons were pouring out of every corner... basically a complete nightmare.”

“That sounds dreadful.”

“I’m not done. Your father was in the middle of it. If you wonder why the Herald might be sharp with him, aside from everything he has pulled here – we found notes of him viscerally describing the murder and torture he committed while trying to find a cure for you.”

Felix didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t even be surprised anymore.

“‘Cure’?” he echoed, eventually. “Just how was I even alive a year from now?”

“You weren’t, not really. He had this husk with him... I didn’t even recognise that it was you at first. Barely a skeleton with a little skin stretched over it, silent, cowering on the ground. You didn’t even try to fight when Leliana grabbed you to slit your throat.” Pavus glanced at his own hands. “I don’t know if that means that nothing of you was left, or if that was the only sign that something of you was still in there.”

“Either way that death was mercy,” Felix murmured.

“I think your father wasn’t sad that we came to kill him, but as long as you were still physically there, he could somehow convince himself that you were with him. It was over for him when you were gone.”

Felix took a moment to compose himself.

“I know he was suffering, but this? How many fathers’ sons did he kill in his quest to keep me alive during that year? Once upon a time, he would have seen that was injustice.” He sighed. “I never thought that he was capable of something like this.”

“Fathers like to surprise you with that kind of thing,” Pavus answered with a grim smile.

Felix cocked his head. Selfishly, he was glad for the distraction Pavus’s words seemed to offer, though he could figure there was a bad story behind them.

“You sound like you speak from experience.”

“Something like that. A few years back, my father tried to change my – interests so I would be more eager to create a few heirs with a woman. Good old Tevinter blood magic, which he’d always told me was only for weak minds. Yet when things didn’t go his way, what was his solution?” Pavus halted and frowned. “Sorry, I think a demon hit me in the head pretty hard. That’s hardly on the same level as tearing the whole world apart.”

“It feels similar, doesn’t it?” Felix said quietly. “It’s a betrayal. Both of our fathers probably also thought they were doing something that would make us happy in the long run, once we had seen what they perceived as reason. It also happened to be something that was mostly designed to make them happy, in the end.”

“You’re not wrong.” Pavus huffed. “Maybe we met because we’re bound by some destiny that has a grudge against us.”

Felix had to smile, though his hands were still shaking under the table. “If this is adverse fate, I’m happy it bound me to someone like you, at least.”

“That’s the nicest thing anyone has said about me in at least three years,” Pavus joked.

He raised his gaze to meet Felix’s eyes. Felix felt quite intensely that moment that he was glad he was not alone.

Then Pavus leaned forward and kissed him.

Felix was too shocked for surprise and too excited for sense. Pavus’s tongue was already between his lips before Felix remembered himself and gently pushed him away, his hands pressing against Pavus’s chest.

“Thank you for visiting me. You probably should get some rest yourself,” he said softly.

There was barely a hitch as Pavus nodded his head and smiled at him. “Of course. See you tomorrow.”

When the door closed behind him, Felix regretted, for the first time in years, that he was so certain of his death. Without that knowledge, he would have kissed Pavus back with abandon.

-

The next day, after the Herald had declared him no longer prisoner, Felix had dared the journey out of his hut for an actual bath and to briefly check on his father. Sitting in his cell, he talked little and stared at the wall, and Felix didn’t know how to speak to him anymore, either, his head full of crimes that his father hadn’t actually committed yet, but that were sadly much too plausible looking back on everything that had already happened. Afterwards, he had wandered the encampment of Haven for a bit, but settled quickly on a bench by the smithy. He hadn’t recovered from the magic that had struck him yet, despite Solas’s best attempts to help; some bone-deep ache had taken hold of him. However, sickness was not new to him and it couldn’t scare him anymore.

“It’s impressive that there are spots in Ferelden that have even worse weather than the rest of the country, isn’t it?”

Felix glanced over his shoulder at Pavus, who was shuffling his way through ankle-deep snow towards him.

“It’s pretty to look at, though,” he answered.

“A better sight than crumbling old Imperial ruins, I’ll give you that.”

He sat down by Felix’s side and they looked out over the snowy field together to where Cullen was training the ragtag bunch of Inquisition soldiers. 

“It’s my second time starting out with an apology,” Pavus noted, “You made it clear enough before that you were only sweet-talking me for fun. I let the moment get the better of me.”

“No need. I wouldn’t have flirted with you if you didn’t make it very easy to think of compliments,” Felix said, smiling at him. “But I’m not being dramatic when I say that I will die very soon and I think after everything that happened, I would feel best if there wasn’t anyone else around who’d be too sad about losing me.” He chuckled. “This might sound off, but if you’d only wanted to bed me for a night, I would have said yes. I wanted to. However, your reputation didn’t say many true things about you, so I didn’t want to assume.”

“Actually, there’s a little truth in everything – surprisingly also Tevinter gossip,” Pavus said, raising a brow. “Nothing wrong with having a bit of fun if everyone agrees, don’t you think?”

“That sounds right to me.”

Pavus looked around, checking to see if anyone paid them attention, then leaned in, but leaving a couple of inches between their faces. Felix decided that if weeks before his death was not the time to make a few haphazard decisions, then when would he do it at all? Asking Pavus to help him had been just as reckless and that had turned out just fine. This time, he got to enjoy the kiss, Pavus’s warm mouth on him, his tongue pressing against his own, the rough scratch of his beard.

“Let’s take this inside before we give some innocent Chantry sister a heart attack,” Pavus said as he separated.

They chose Felix’s hut. Felix thought he would feel stranger laying down with someone on what had been his sick bed for the last couple of days; had thought he would be more awkward exposing his haggard body that had stopped feeling like his own long ago after too many treatments; had thought he’d be more ashamed of the weak grip of his limbs.

However, Pavus didn’t comment, for all the Maker knew didn’t even seem to notice. He was on him with eager mouth and hands and his enthusiasm was infectious. Soon, Felix didn’t think about himself, but about how good it felt to run his hands through Pavus’s hair, how strong yet pliant his body was under his hands, how easily he leaned into his touches and smiled into his kisses.

Felix had never slept with a man before, but that thought only crossed his mind in passing. He did not feel shy to take Pavus’s cock in hand and when Pavus teased his hole with his thumb while playing with his balls, he just wished they had something at hand that would have made going further an option. However, he was just as satisfied with their slow rutting, the tight, heated press of bodies. Pavus liked his neck quite well, it seemed, and the marks he sucked into his pallid skin would have to be hidden under his collar were they at home, but Felix wasn’t sure if he would bother here. He ran his hands over Pavus in slow, thorough exploration, curious and unhurried, and stroked Pavus’s cock the same way until Pavus’s impatience was written all over his face, making Felix laugh. He did not make him wait much longer, then, happy to bring release, and he himself came with barely a suggestion of touch, just from Pavus shifting his thigh against his cock in an embrace.

Pavus stretched out next to him, as nimble and self-satisfied as a cat, and Felix saw no reason to shoo him away. For all the disturbing distortion of time of the last weeks, it seemed to move pleasantly slow in Pavus’s presence. As he looked at his handsome face, the tangled dark strands, the mean smile under his beard, Felix smiled, too. He knew with certainty in that moment that he liked Pavus a bit more than he should, having agreed to nothing but fun. Considering he would carry his secret to the grave, though, it did not matter, and he could enjoy the feeling without guilt.

-

A couple days after their tryst, Felix was happy that he had chosen to give in quickly, for even the morning after he’d already been almost too weak to rise from the bed, and the next day he had to lay down frequently to even keep his eyes open the rest of the time. It felt different than how the taint had before; he was used to exhaustion, but what came now was numbness, not the slow, deep ache he had grown accustomed to. Perhaps that was just the difference between being sick and dying, though. Felix held to his own words and tried not to grow fearful.

What helped was distraction. The Inquisition had brought the baggage his father had carried from Tevinter and asked Felix to take a look. He reclaimed a few of his own books and one of his father’s, which he brought to the hut Pavus occupied.

“Little Alexius,” Pavus greeted him as he entered. He was sitting at the table, which was covered in a few scattered scrolls. His gaze wandered from Felix’s face to the book in his hands. “Are you also handing out Varric Tethras’s word now?”

“No, as... _interesting_ as _Hard in Hightown_ was, this belonged to my father.”

“Weren’t you going to take your father’s belongings back to Tevinter when you try to talk to the Senate?”

“Yes, that was the plan. However, I don’t think I will make it back,” Felix said honestly.

He didn’t feel like he had to lie in front of Pavus, soften the blows. He’d only known Felix like this.

“You’re that ill?” Pavus asked with a frown.

Felix shrugged.

“It came quickly now.”

“It probably didn’t help that I hit you in the face with an experimental spell...”

“If that changed anything, I doubt it took more than a few weeks off my tally. Maybe it did nothing at all. I was failing even with my father’s constant efforts. Now,” Felix said, quickly brushing aside the idea of Pavus’s responsibility and placing the shoddily bound book in front of him on the table, “about this.”

It looked for a moment like Pavus wanted to argue, but then he simply nodded his head.

“What about this?”

“My father liked to create private volumes of his research. This is all the collected and sorted notes about temporal magic, published and unpublished, everything he considered certain enough to work with. I can’t think of anyone else I’d want to have this more than you.”

Pavus’s eyes widened for a moment, but then his hand fell down, pushing the book towards Felix again, as if he wanted to make sure it was out of his reach.

“Life or death being at stake, I might have summoned some of the dregs swimming at the bottom of my brain drowning in wine,” he joked, “but I’m not much of a scholar anymore. According to most, I never was. You know I wouldn’t make it a month in a Circle before getting kicked out. I would know, I tried – not very hard, I’ll admit, but for as long as I could bear.” He shook his head. “Besides, who knows where I’ll go next? You wouldn’t want me to be tempted to use this book for kindling.”

Under the humour, there was tiredness in his voice, something like defeat. It was the first time Felix had heard it from him, though he suspected it lurked deeper in Pavus than he would admit. He liked to grandstand and make light of his life, but before he had come to Haven, he’d slept rough in an old hut; and even before he’d left Tevinter he’d spent most of his time there without a place to call home. They were about the same age and at thirty years, that sort of life was not as exciting anymore as it could be to a young man barely out of his youth.

“You obviously know a lot about this topic and you’ve handled it responsibly, too. If you ever chose to do research again, this would be a good starting point – and if the book becomes kindling, it was put to better use than what my father did,” he said, pushing it back at him as he locked eyes with him. “You know, if Tevinter were a better place, maybe you’d never have needed to feel like you had to give up on science just to live your life.”

Pavus gave a short bark of a laugh. However, his finger did tease the rough-cut edges of the pages, drawn to it.

“If Tevinter were a better place, maybe you wouldn’t have felt the need to hide in your father’s villa and we might have met.”

“That would have been fun. I wouldn’t have minded having a teenaged crush on you,” Felix said with a smile.

Pavus grinned. “Good taste,” he decided as he pulled the book closer to himself.

-

Though getting up was more difficult now, Felix still liked to sit on the bench next to the door of his hut. He hadn’t had the time or the frame of mind for his own interests in these last weeks, and as he glanced at the pages of the book now, he realised his brain was already too clouded to follow many of the things that he’d once grasped with ease. Still, as he leafed through the volume in his lap, just seeing the formulas and numbers that had made up so much of his life was comfortable.

He saw Pavus come up the way this time, heard his boot crunching in the snow. It had to be midday; they’d eaten together for the last few days and Pavus always came to fetch him. Felix had almost shut the book when Pavus came in close and put a finger between the pages, urging it open again.

“Maker’s breath, is that mathematics or a foreign language?” he asked dryly.

“That’s what I was studying at the university in Orlais before the taint.”

“You were at the university in Orlais? You must have been good for them to consider letting a magister’s son run wild there. I feel like there’s a lot of untold stories here that I need to get out of you.”

He raised his finger to tap Felix’s forehead, a gesture that was friendly and a little too intimate at once, and that Felix liked.

“I don’t know how interesting it will be for you. It has nothing to do with magic.”

“So?” Pavus just said and shrugged his shoulders. “I figure we first fetch something to eat, though. Maybe not at the mess today. Would you believe the food in this tavern is edible? I guess if you get people together who believe in a cause, they actually try.”

“Now you made me curious,” Felix said, raising from his seat.

He fell almost as soon as he stood. Next to him, the book thudded softly into the snow.

Pavus was right at his side and Felix tried to get up and say something calming, the way he always did when his failing body left him hanging once again. However, his limbs wouldn’t move and his voice failed on the first word for lack of strength and conviction both.

“Alright, time to go to Solas, I think.”

Pavus picked him up from the ground and the world spun again. The tearing, twisting sensation in his chest that had run through him in castle was back. He looked up at Pavus, confused and in pain, and noticed something alight flitting over the skin of his own hand from the corner of his eye. Pavus’s healing magic, perhaps, Felix thought, which wouldn’t do much at this point. He wished that Pavus hadn’t been so close to witness this because he looked deeply frightened. Felix’s eyes drifted shut before he saw anything else.

-

Felix opened his eyes again. At first, he thought nothing of it; briefly considered that it was a good day because his throat felt open and free in a way it hadn’t in a while, allowing him to take deep breaths. 

He realised only belatedly that his latest memory was of collapsing for what had, in the moment, felt very much like his final time. Disappointment came first through the fog. It would have been, if nothing else, a clean end. Dying he had resigned himself to, but vegetating needlessly in a bed he wouldn’t rise from anymore wasn’t what he’d hoped for.

But then, weirdly enough, he did not feel at all like he was dying. While his body was only slowly coming to, his vision still a blur and the voices he heard indistinct sounds, it had been years since he had been so without the dull, poisonous ache of the taint. Maybe they had given him something to take it away, but then why did the pain not return with his senses?

Eventually, he saw enough to recognise the three people that stood over his body: Enchantress Vivienne, the wandering mage Solas, and Pavus. It didn’t seem that him opening his eyes surprised them. Had he done it before without truly waking? Felix set the thought aside and focused on their conversation. He realised the warm pressure he felt was Solas’s hand on his bare chest.

“I must agree with Vivienne here. I cannot feel any trace of the blight and it’s usually very noticeable. I don’t know if you’ve ever attempted to heal a tainted person before, but it’s like trying to walk through a closed door or push your fingers into frozen earth. The body doesn’t take to it anymore. You may as well try to heal a piece of dead wood. The healing magic flows freely through him, though.”

“How is that possible? The blight doesn’t just go away,” Pavus said, echoing the thought that had immediately run through Felix’s own mind.

“That’s not quite right. It does, apparently, do so at times. Don’t forget that Fiona used to be a Grey Warden – though of course she doesn’t seem able to explain what happened to her affliction, either,” Vivienne pointed out.

“I think in this case, the cause might be easier to find. When you threw the spell that put you and the Herald into the future, you hit Felix, too.”

“I noticed,” Pavus murmured.

“This threw him into his father, who was also still wielding his own powers. I’d say it would be a miracle if someone could reverse-engineer the exact mix of magic that worked on Felix’s body, especially since the influence of the Fade and possibly this mysterious ‘Elder One’ fed into both your spells at the time. However, I’d hazard that it turned something substantial inside his body backwards to before the taint – a very local time shift that has now become permanent. He told me he had been growing weaker rapidly over the last days. We thought he was deteriorating, but it seems it was really a period of adjustment.”

Briefly, Solas’s gaze flicked to Felix. He must have felt the stumble of Felix’s heart under his palm.

“But he was still tainted in the future that me and the Herald were in,” Pavus said. “Wouldn’t he have been hit by the spell there, too?”

Solas made a thoughtful noise.

“Then I may have added my part to this many-step spell. When Felix arrived here, I tried to calm down the magic that was still coursing through him. I may unwittingly have helped it settle in just the right way.”

“Isn’t that droll?” Vivienne mused. “It seems his father has chosen exactly the right path to get what he wanted.”

If he could have grimaced, Felix would have.

“From the look of him in the cell, I don’t think he’s convinced he’s succeeding, but you’re not wrong,” Solas said. “Still, if you are implying we should kill Felix...”

“He helped you!” Pavus said, agitated.

“That’s what I was getting to,” Solas answered.

“Obviously, I didn’t mean to say we should strangle him now,” Vivienne said flatly, “I merely thought it at an interesting twist of fate. Luck obviously does not choose by merit.”

“Luck didn’t choose by merit when Felix Alexius got the blight, either,” Pavus threw back.

“So perhaps it does all even out, in the end,” Solas said, closing the conversation with an air of finality in his tone. “For now, let’s see if he even wakes up. It’s still possible that his body cannot adapt to whatever the spells did it to it. I’ll keep watch over him.”

“If he does awaken from his slumber, be so kind to tell me. It would be a shame to lose a rare reasonable man from Tevinter,” Pavus said smoothly, his anger already hidden behind a smile again.

“Indeed it would be,” Solas answered, raising a brow.

Perhaps it was in service of keeping Solas friendly enough to give him information that Pavus did not remark on his jab, but followed Vivienne out of the door without comment, lingering only briefly to take another look at Felix.

The words that had cascaded over him only now had time to fully arrive in his mind as Felix laid motionless in bed, staring at the wooden rafters and the bundles of thatch comprising the roof. The sudden sharp downturn of his health had surprised him a little, even knowing his constitution was fickle. After all, while his father was not around to fuss over him, the powders and pills had still been with Felix and he had continued taking them in hopes of making it back to Tevinter to tell them of the Inquisition. Now it seemed that the order to try living would have to be extended beyond the next few weeks.

It seemed foolish to hope, but that was because so far hope had been foolish. 

_Don’t think about it now. Just fight._

And Felix pressed his eyes shut, tensing every muscle that would listen.

-

It was a slow battle. Each fibre of his body seemed to need an invitation, each tendon unsure of its use, each bone still finding its place. However, eventually his fingers twitched and his arm shifted over the blanket, his shoulders rolled against the straw under the sheet. Finally, he managed to get his tongue to move, his lips forming silent words, before he made his first attempt to speak in earnest.

“Solas?”

It sounded more like a door hinge creaking than words, but Solas, who sat by his side plucking small, sharp-smelling leaves from a thin grey twig, looked up immediately. When he saw that Felix could turn his head towards him, he gave him an approving smile.

“I had wondered when you would wake up. I saw you moving. This is a good sign. I think you made it.”

“I have – been awake for a bit. I heard you – and the others. Thank you for your – help,” Felix got out, grateful that his control did not wane, but that the words instead grew steadier.

Solas helped Felix sit against the pillows.

“I didn’t do much, but I am happy to see you on your way to recovery. It seems to me we are learning more about the possibilities of magic around these empty parts of Ferelden than even in your bustling Tevinter Circles.” He turned and picked up an earthen bowl with water. “Can you hold this?”

Solas’s palm hovered under the vessel as Felix’s fingers curled slowly around it. His grip was weak, but he lifted the bowl to his lips and managed to drink.

“Good,” Solas said. “How do you feel?”

“Still a bit stiff. I don’t hurt at all, though. Did you give me anything to alleviate the pain?”

Usually, even water passing down his throat would have called back familiar aches.

“No, nothing. I think your body is recuperating.”

“Incredible,” Felix murmured.

Very carefully, his bony fingers placed the bowl down on a crate next to his bed. He noticed for the first time the book that laid there. It was his volume on theoretical mathematics which he’d dropped in the snow.

“Dorian brought this for you,” Solas said, seeing where his gaze went. “I can get him now if you don’t mind. I think he was very interested to know if you’d survive.”

Just for a moment, his eyes flicked slightly downwards, and Felix realised he was probably looking at the love bites on his neck.

“Yes, thank you,” he just said, instead of attempting an explanation.

With his newfound small amount of strength, Felix lifted the book into his lap. Pavus must have brought it here right after he’d collapsed, since he didn’t see any water damage it would have had if it had laid in the snow for too long. Even though it would have been quite a meaningless gesture in any sensible universe, where Felix wouldn’t have woken up again, there was something sweet in that gesture, as if Pavus had wanted to make the room a little more to Felix’s taste by bringing the book here instead of to his hut.

He had just gotten his legs over the side of the bed when Pavus entered the room, with a dust of snow still on his shoulders and followed by a gust of cold, clear air. He smiled widely when he saw Felix.

“Look who’s back among the living.”

“The surprises don’t end, it seems.”

Pavus sat down on the small stool Solas had used before, looking Felix up and down, gaze coming to rest on his face.

“You look a little broody for a man who just cheated certain death,” he pointed out.

“Do I? I guess I’ve never been the most exuberant person in any given room,” Felix said with a brief smile.

But was that all? Pavus was not wrong that his reaction seemed muted, even in the confines of his own head. He gripped the book in his lap.

“What is it? Solas says now that you woke up, you should be over the hill.”

“I believe him. I feel so much better than I have in years,” Felix said slowly. “I’m happy, I am.” He considered carefully why it was so hard to believe, then, that Solas had said the truth. “I want to live. I just had to be very certain that I wouldn’t or it would have been too easy to start believing in my father’s vain hopes. When you tell yourself there is no way out for as many years as I did, I guess it’s difficult to suddenly change your mind.”

“You’ll have time to get used to the thought,” Pavus answered easily.

Felix smiled. “It makes me feel less like I’m an ungrateful madman to hear you say so. I have to thank you, too. I heard what Solas said about how I was cured. It seems you and Solas saved my life.”

Pavus raised a brow.

“Much as I enjoy being hailed as a hero, I think there was a little too much coincidence in play to give me any credit.”

Felix shrugged his shoulders. “I am in your debt, anyway.”

“Oh, stop that. I’m glad you made it. Should I ever get back to Tevinter, it’s good to know there’ll at least be one person I can trust not to fall for weird cults and unlikely promises of power. A rare thing in our home, don’t you think?”

“If you returned, we would both have that advantage,” Felix said, chuckling.

-

After breakfast, Felix had moved back to the small hut that had become his abode rather than his prison, where he spent most of his afternoon walking circles. He still grew exhausted fairly quickly, but considering his body had been ravaged by a consumption beyond the human understanding for so long, and now was so thin he barely weighed more than he had as a boy, it didn’t surprise him that he still needed to recover his full strength. He marvelled instead at the lack of pain in his joints, the sudden dispersing of the haze over his mind that had sunk quickly whenever he hadn’t chased it away, how he could sit without his head spinning, how full his lungs could get of air. He’d forgotten what it felt like to be healthy.

He was still too full of nervous energy to sit still and continued streaking about his house in the evening when there was a knock at the door and Pavus entered.

“Little Alexius! I looked for you at Solas’s home, but he’s already fussing over the next magically damaged case.”

Pavus was carrying bowls of stew with him, which he sat down on the table.

“I said I would spend the night here, since he needed the room at his place. After all, there is very little to be done if my body cannot handle the spell.” Seeing the shadow of concern that crossed Pavus’s face, he added quickly: “But I’m well. Did you bring me supper?”

“Since you couldn’t come to the tavern with me yesterday, I figured I would get the food to you.”

“Thank you. You don’t have to feel responsible for me, though. I didn’t mean to break down over your feet.”

He sat down at the table, anyway, on the singular bench it had. He’d been too baffled to be hungry, but the smell of onions and meat made his mouth water.

“I don’t think it’s bad for me to feel responsible every once in a while,” Pavus admitted, narrowing his eyes at Felix as he sat down next to him and picked up the spoon, “and I want you to know that it’s your fault such words are leaving my mouth. I was perfectly content drinking my life away before you took me on this wild ride.”

“ _You_ approached _me_ ,” Felix pointed out, smiling.

“Because I was – justifiably – a bit worried that a gigantic explosion was followed by a sudden influx of my countrymen in Ferelden. That seemed like a little too much coincidence.”

“I see,” Felix said, making no attempt to hide his amusement. “I think if I hadn’t panned out, you would have found a way to get involved, anyway.”

“You’re wrong – but we’ll never know now, will we? Unless we try time travel again, but I’m not very keen on that.”

“I don’t think rolling the dice again could work out better for me than it has. Meeting a man who can match my father’s spells and stumbling into a cure? What would the chances be?”

“I didn’t hit the worst timeline, either. I might even hang around here for a little bit. They don’t seem like the worst bunch and Maker knows they need all the help they can get.”

“You’re a talented mage, I’m sure they could use you.”

Besides, he liked the idea that Pavus had found something to concern himself with. From what little Felix had gleaned, it didn’t seem like he’d had much of that in a long while, nothing to do but keep himself alive. Some people were happy like that, but despite all his japes Pavus didn’t seem truly content with the state of things.

“Here you go with the compliments again,” Pavus said, swirling his spoon in the stew. “You still haven’t found anything to say about me that you couldn’t repeat in front of your grandmother, though! And here I thought I might have inspired you...”

“You can’t judge me by this occasion,” Felix protested. “I was talking about the Inquisition. You may be very handsome, but I don’t think they’ll keep you around for that alone.”

“Who knows? The Herald might have a good eye. Although if that is to be the reason, you have to stick around, too,” Pavus added, winking at him.

Felix shook his head. “I give up. I don’t think I can stand up to your talent to find opportunities.”

“Don’t feel too bad. Few do.”

As they spoke, Pavus had moved closer. He leaned in slowly to kiss Felix and Felix raised one hand to stop him again, reflexively, and then let it sink unseen into his lap.

There was no reason not to kiss Pavus, not to let this go where it might. There was no reason at all to keep distance between himself and anyone if he did not wish it. The careful steps he’d taken away from everybody over these last years – so very aware of how much a death could hurt as he watched his father suffer and remembered his mother’s corpse in his arms –, were not necessary anymore.

After a whole day of trying out his new body and thinking about his miraculous recovery, the reality of it finally overwhelmed him in that moment.

When Pavus leaned back, Felix could hardly keep his breathing under control.

“I don’t usually get reactions that bad.”

Even through the aimless panic, Felix had to smile. “I’m going to live,” he said, almost like a question. “I think I...”

Pavus resolved him from the duty of finding an ending to the sentence with another short peck on his lips.

“Is it sinking in?” he asked, not unkindly.

Felix nodded his head.

Pavus opened his arms and Felix was glad to accept the embrace. He clung tightly to him, grinning uncontrollably.

-

When Felix approached Pavus sitting by the fire before the chantry, he stopped before calling out, took the time to really look at him. It occurred to Felix that the very moment he had seen Pavus, his mouth had already pulled into a smile.

Though he’d only known Pavus for maybe three weeks now, those had been some of the most tumultuous of his life. Without him, they may have been some of the worst, too. Perhaps that explained the breadth and depth of feeling for a man who in many ways was still a stranger to him. Felix had seen the bravery he was capable of, and the compassion, too. Last night, Pavus had stayed with him and told him light tales of his escapades around Tevinter until early morning so that Felix had something else to think about than a dizzying existential crisis. When he’d prepared to leave, Felix had felt warm all over as he looked at him, and he did again today.

As he approached Pavus, he found himself taking note in the back of his mind of the way the wind played in his long hair and the curve of his neck when he sat with his head bowed, his longer fingers running over the page of the book in his lap. Looking at them, Felix realised that the writing under his fingertips was familiar.

“I see you haven’t burned the book yet.”

Pavus sat up straight, looking for all the world like a boy who had been caught stealing pies from the kitchen. “Well,” he said archly, “I figured it’s a waste not to have a short look, since I already have it.”

Felix just smiled, which got him a look of mild annoyance from Pavus. Apparently, he did not like to be caught being too involved with anything. Felix didn’t see a reason to press him right now.

“I hope you still got some sleep at all.”

“Please, little Alexius, a night spent talking is not going to leave me tired out in the morning. Didn’t I just tell you about the things I usually get up to?”

“They did sound more strenuous,” Felix admitted.

Pavus looked at him closely and laughed. “My, my, did I make you blush?”

“Your stories are good, but different to remember in the light of day,” Felix said, joining into his laughter.

“Adorable. Are you still feeling alright?”

Felix nodded his head. “The Herald sent a soldier to ask me to join her so we can discuss what happens next to me and my father. Do you want to come and tell her you’ll stay or did you do so already?”

“I probably should tell them, shouldn’t I? Makes it a little more official than what I’m used to, but I guess they won’t let me hang around without reason forever.”

Together, they walked into the chantry. The air inside was no less cool here and smelled of ashes and incense. Felix had been inside only once when he’d visited his father down in the dungeons. He walked the length of the building now towards the door to the advisors’ meeting room.

The Herald, Josephine Montilyet and Leliana were alone in the room as Felix and Pavus were let in by the guards. Felix remembered that Pavus had told him Leliana had been the one to kill him in the other future; if she’d heard the same story, her face did not betray it.

“Felix of House Alexius, as you’ve requested, Herald,” Lady Montilyet said. “I see he brought Dorian of House Pavus along as well, which is useful. We were hoping to talk to both of you, anyway.”

The Herald, a towering woman even for a qunari, looked at them with stern interest. Felix bowed and Pavus next to him inclined his head.

“Dorian, you’re still around. Didn’t I hear you say you back in the future that you were going to go to Denerim to get drunken under a table by the first surfacer dwarf you find?” she asked with a quirk to her lips.

“You _do_ have a tavern here, and dwarves, too, so I figured I could still do that here if I feel like it – unless you want me to leave.”

“No. You’ve proved your loyalty,” she said. “You did, too, Felix Alexius, but your father...”

“Are there any news from Tevinter yet?” Felix asked.

“Nothing so far. What do you think will happen? I admit I am not very well-versed in Tevinter politics. It’s difficult to get information,” Lady Montilyet answered in the Herald’s stead.

“I expect they will strip him of his titles as punishment, but award anything of substance to me as his heir,” Felix said. 

“Likely,” Pavus agreed. “This is not the first time a magister threw in with the wrong people and started using the sort of magic you don’t want to be seen wielding in polite society. Especially since it happened outside our borders, the Imperial Senate will crack down on it. However, they won’t want to make anyone worry that they will mess too badly with important families even should one of their members be caught in an unsavoury situation.”

“Besides that, knowing the contacts my father had, I also think that there are other Venatori sympathisers among the Magisterium and the Publicanium,” Felix added. “They have reason not to set precedent of a whole family being disinherited when one Venatori member is found.”

“If you have any names, I’d love to hear them later,” Leliana said mildly.

“Of course.”

“If the Senate disavows your father, then they’ll probably let the Inquisition judge him,” Pavus pointed out, looking at Felix. “It makes it easier to wash their hands off him entirely and the Inquisition won’t have as much reason to pick a fight with Tevinter if they get to enact revenge themselves.”

Felix swallowed, but did not comment. He saw the Herald looking at him.

“What would you do if I sentence your father to death?” the Herald asked him bluntly.

“As I am his son, it’s my duty to implore you not to and find another punishment. He’s a great scholar, perhaps he could still be of some use.” He hesitated as his stomach twisted into knots. “As someone who knows what has happened here, I will understand any decision you make. I would even still work with the Inquisition, though I’m not sure I have a use here. I know Solas told you about my recovery, but I barely have any magic powers and I can’t fight. Perhaps it would be best if I return to Tevinter to give them an account of your deeds here, as we planned before? I could stay in contact with the Inquisition, too.”

“I don’t know if I like that idea. As long as the Venatori are still on the loose, it’s pretty likely you’ll end up dead even without the blight,” Pavus interrupted. “I think you could have gotten away with going back and calling a senate meeting about the Herald when you were already with one foot in the grave, but I doubt they’d like a permanent Inquisition contact.”

“That’s – not wrong,” Felix admitted. “I’m not without friends in Tevinter, but it will be dangerous.”

Lady Montilyet cleared her throat. “If I may... I heard that before your illness, you were a favoured student at the university of Orlais for your talents in mathematics, yes?”

“It was my speciality,” Felix agreed.

“I realise this means that bookkeeping will likely bore you, but I have been looking for someone trustworthy to help me organise our finances. I can assure you they are at least challenging enough to provide some diversion.” She sounded a little harrowed. “You would be safer with us, too.”

“I would be happy to help,” Felix said, brightening.

It made sense that a place like this had to worry about logistics, too, but between all the heroes it had been something he’d admittedly lost track of. Felix had no need to be as close to the action as he had been in the castle, but he wanted to be helpful all the same.

“Brilliant. I would take him off your hands if there are no other questions, Herald?” Lady Montilyet asked. “Just to show him around my office.”

“No, nothing. I’ll see you two soon. Dorian, I’m making for the Hinterlands again in a couple of days. You coming?” the Herald asked.

“Who could resist a trek through the muddy Fereldan countryside? Why, I think I still have a pair of boots that isn’t ruined yet. Just tell me when.”

Pavus smiled at Felix as Felix let himself be led out of the room by Lady Montilyet.

-

Felix left the chantry only when it was already dark, the clear sky studded with stars shining so brightly he could see Draconis, Equinor and Judex without searching for them, and he was sure he could have found the other constellations hadn’t he been in a hurry. 

Pavus had visited Felix in the afternoon, when he’d been seated at a desk Lady Montilyet had had carried into her office for him, and which was already covered in paperwork. Getting an overview, Felix had not found it difficult to see why Lady Montilyet wanted a hand. A lot of careful calculations would have to be made to keep the Inquisition afloat with the funds they had. He’d told Pavus as much when he leaned in the door.

“That sounds important and I’d be grateful if you figured out how to keep us clothed and fed tomorrow. For tonight, though, there’s a celebration at the tavern. Officially because of the arrival of the mages, I think, but probably mostly because they’ve finally found someone to sing at the _Singing Maiden_. You should join me there before I lose you entirely to the numbers,” he’d told him.

Felix had found it all too easy to agree to another evening in Pavus’s company, one finally free of dread and responsibility.

The tavern’s door stood half-opened, letting heated air escape. Felix shouldered in and saw the middle of the room had been cleared of tables and chairs so people could dance. A young woman with dark hair stood on a table, played a quick tune on a lute and sang.

“There you are, little Alexius.”

Felix turned and stopped for a second as he saw Pavus. “You look five years younger without the beard,” he said, smiling.

“And probably still ten years older than I am. Drink and living rough for a decade and a half will do that to you.”

Pavus gave a lopsided grin as he rubbed his shaved jaw.

“If that is the case, advanced age is not a bad look for you,” Felix teased.

“I agree,” Pavus said, hauling Felix closer by the wrist to get him out of the way of two squabbling elves, or perhaps just closer to himself. “Now, drinks or dancing first? We haven’t celebrated your survival yet.”

“Dancing,” Felix said without hesitation.

He hadn’t had much drink in the last years, either, but while he didn’t dislike alcohol, he hadn’t specifically missed it, either. Dancing, however, he’d always enjoyed.

“Wonderful. I’ll finally have someone who knows the Tevinter steps.”

Winking, Pavus pulled him towards the dancing pairs and Felix was happy to let him. Coming to Orlais, and watching visiting students from there as well as Ferelden and the Free Cities dance, Felix had learned that in the latter two dances were quick and free, whereas in the former, they tended to be only slightly less complicated than formulas and deeply intertwined with a myriad of small social gestures. In Tevinter, it was different again. The steps were formalised, but less complicated than in Orlais, and the social production of the dance was mostly concerned with how skilfully you executed the steps and whom you had managed to get on the floor. Thanks to his magic defect, Felix had often had to wait until the fourth and fifth sisters from minor families or widows and matrons who weren’t looking for another husband got bored enough to take him up; though as long as he could dance at all, he hadn’t minded. Being chosen immediately, dancing to the first song he heard as he entered the room – that was something he’d never experienced before.

More important than that, however, was that it was Pavus’s arms he was in. As long as they were only talking and exchanging small affections, he could pretend that he was not already much more deeply involved than he should have been. It was more difficult when Pavus was whirling over the floor with all the grace and talent of one who had never done anything different and holding on to Felix like he didn’t even see anyone else. 

Pavus was merciful with him at first and for all the dances where it mattered, he let Felix move as the man. However, he switched it up soon enough, and Felix tripped every now and then trying to match steps he had only ever mirrored before.

“Watch you stumbling over your feet in front of everybody. What would your relatives say?” Pavus murmured into his ear.

Felix laughed breathlessly.

“My relatives wouldn’t believe me the heir of the House of Pavus gave me the time of day.”

Of course, they couldn’t have danced together in Tevinter at all. It was nice to pretend, anyway, and they did, until Felix had to stop Pavus with a gesture. His head felt hot and his knees weak, but his heart thrummed happily.

Pavus somehow managed to escape him and was back so quickly Felix didn’t have time to look for him, either. He was carrying two wooden cups of ale.

“So, what do you say? Was the heir of the House of Pavus a worthy partner for the evening?”

Felix sipped the thick brown liquid. “I’d say a lot of what I heard about you was gossip, and I know for a fact your partners are not blameless like their families want them to be. Still, it’s not hard to see how you gained your reputation as a seducer. Who could resist?”

Pavus snorted. “I will admit, in my last couple of years in Tevinter I did make a bit of a game out of picking up highborn sons if I could – though as you guessed, I was knocking on open doors,” he said, his smile turning harder. “If any of them had been brave enough to stay with me, I might not have felt perpetually confirmed in my bitterness.” He shrugged. “Well, I tired of that eventually. If you get the same result often enough, even resentment gets boring.”

Felix nodded his head. “I know of resentment,” he said. How could he not? It was tempting sometimes to consider how much easier his life would have been if only he’d been born with a little more talent for magic.

“Do you? You weren’t even resentful that you would die.” Pavus raised a brow. “It’s kind of unnerving, actually.”

“Don’t think me too saintly,” Felix said with a smile. “I had made peace with my early death, but I wasn’t happy about it.”

“I would hope so! Otherwise, you’ll stop being grateful to me and then I don’t have a dance partner anymore.”

Smiling, Felix shook his head. “That’s not why I’m dancing with you, either.”

“Oh, is that so?”

Felix simply leaned in and placed his hand over Pavus’s lying on the table, lifting his mug with the other to take another sip. Pavus’s gaze stuck to their hands for a long moment.

“Now that I have you under the torch light, you look a little overheated. Want to get out of here when we have finished our drinks?”

“Sure,” Felix said easily.

Being at the tavern with Pavus was entertaining and he would have gladly stayed; but he knew being anywhere with Pavus would be fun.

The air outside bit after the heat of the tavern and Felix drew close to Pavus, to protect himself from the wind, but mostly because the wind made for a good excuse. Pavus put his hand in the pocket of Felix’s tunic to warm it.

“Let’s go to my place. It’s a nice little spot if you want privacy. The roof almost doesn’t leak.”

“So you can check on my temperature?” Felix asked bemused.

“Very thoroughly so.”

They kissed as soon as they were through the door, were on the bed a moment later. Felix climbed on Pavus’s hips, some of the fire of the dance still in him, and Pavus leaned back, languidly resting against the bunched-up blanket, arms folded behind his head and a provocative grin on his face. Felix took the challenge, crawled downwards with kisses, and then drew his lips down over the length of Pavus’s cock.

He didn’t remember the details of what the women with whom he’d slept years ago had done, but he loved the feeling of Pavus’s cock in his mouth and he hoped that eagerness made up for inexperience – because of eagerness he had so much it seemed to burn him up from inside. Pavus did not shy from placing a guiding hand on his head and Felix swallowed him, hoped that he could still make some impression even if Pavus had probably taught a dozen clumsy Tevinter nobles how to do this. Felix used the experience he had swallowing bitter medicine to keep his gagging under control and felt desperately hard when Pavus came down his throat.

Pavus turned him into the sheets, grabbed his cock. Felix had taken himself in hand since he’d been a young man, but in minutes Pavus showed him that apparently his technique was woefully lacking. Of course, Pavus’s kisses on his mouth, his throat, his body hovering close and warm over Felix, did their part as well.

They laid entangled afterwards. Felix’s eyes were half-shut. He knew he should have grabbed his clothes and his boots, but the thought of outside was so much more cruel with Pavus warm and soft next to him.

“Would you mind if I spent the night?”

“Be my guest – literally.”

Felix turned his smile against Pavus’s shoulder, his fingers carding gently over his stomach and chest until he fell asleep.

-

The next morning, Felix had woken up alone.

There had been no note for him to find, so Felix had figured that perhaps the Herald had decided to leave early for the Hinterlands and Pavus had had to get up quickly.

A little disappointed that there had been no kiss or comment to collect in the morning, he’d quickly found his clothes and went to the river behind the chantry to wash himself. Returning to the main camp, he’d seen Pavus standing with the requisitions master and Varric; it seemed to him that Pavus had seen him, too, but he’d quickly turned away.

Felix hadn’t been sure what to make of that, though something in his chest had plummeted at the sight. Had he said or done something wrong? Should he not have stayed last night?

Had he not had another duty right then, he would’ve had more time to contemplate this. However, his thoughts had been on his father.

When he returned from the cells, he ran almost straight into Pavus’s arms.

For a moment, Pavus looked like he wanted to sidestep him. However, seeing where Felix had come from, he slowed his step.

“Did you talk to your father?”

“Yes.”

They drifted towards the side of the chantry building, into a shadowy, empty corner behind the columns. Despite the odd moment earlier, Felix was glad to have run into him here.

“How did that go?” Pavus asked carefully.

“I don’t know. He was overjoyed, of course. I don’t think he thinks the Elder One did this. However, I don’t think he’s ever going to truly regret what he did now, either.” He leaned against the cold stone wall. “He ignored my wishes for years, but I do think he would have given his life for me if that was what it took. Selfishness and selflessness is a strange combination to behold.” Felix took a deep breath. “I wish it was easier to hate him.”

“It’d be great if people who did terrible things had the decency to be complete monsters,” Pavus agreed. “Don’t worry about it too much. He may have gotten what he wanted, but this isn’t really about him. Just enjoy that you’re not dead.”

“You’re right.” Felix nodded his head. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

They walked out of the large doors together. It was a bright day and sunlight glittered on the snow.

“Were you busy this morning?” Felix asked, keeping his voice light. “The bed was already cold when I woke up.”

“I figured you’re probably still getting back on your feet, right? I didn’t see a need to kick you out.”

Pavus rubbed the back of his neck.

“Of course,” Felix said, too aware Pavus wasn’t telling him the whole truth. “It’s fine if you wake me in the future, though, don’t worry. I lived with the blight for years, I’m not that fragile.”

“In the future, huh?”

“If the opportunity comes again.”

“Right.”

They walked in silence for a moment, between the wooden huts and towards the palisades.

“Should we talk about that?” Felix asked.

Better now than never, before he lost his nerve.

Pavus stared at him.

“Maker’s breath, you’re direct.”

“Why not? We’re both adult men.”

“Most adult Tevinter men won’t even speak about last night, much less about the future.”

“But then, you did not like that about them,” Felix said. That much has been obvious last night.

“Right.” Pavus frowned. “I guess there are just a few things I don’t want to hear you say, and considering what a disgustingly sensible man you are currently again proving to be...”

“What?” Felix said, with a crooked smile.

“I just thought I’d hear them this morning.”

“I didn’t plan on saying anything that could hurt you.”

“Sure. Yes. I do believe you honestly don’t _want_ to hurt me,” Pavus said, somewhat hopelessly.

They stood next to a half-built wooden construction that might one day become an anti-siege machine now, a good bit away from most people. Felix opened his mouth to lay his cards on the table for Pavus to look at, but to his surprise, Pavus cut over him.

“Listen, little – Felix.”

Felix had to smile at Pavus’s dissatisfied expression at his start. It was clear his eloquence very rarely failed him.

“Little Felix? I accepted little Alexius, but...”

The corner of Pavus’s mouth twitched. “You know damned well what I mean. Alright, Felix. I know that when we first slept together, you made it your condition that it could only be sex. I wasn’t trying to get around that, either. I mean, getting too involved with a man weeks from his death bed is pragmatically a bad idea, I will give you that.” He glanced to the side. “When you broke down, though, and I carried you to Solas, that – didn’t feel great. Then this morning you were curled up against my side, still smiling in your sleep and all wrapped around me, and I just had to leave before you left me.” He raised his eyes again. “I might not have been entirely honest with you, but in my defence, I wasn’t entirely honest with myself, either.”

Though Pavus was still joking, Felix thought he looked frightened and hesitant, like someone waiting for a punch to connect.

“I don’t expect anything from you. As I said, you were clear,” Pavus repeated.

“I thought I was dying, Dorian. Things have changed.”

“Have they?” Pavus asked carefully.

“Yes. Besides, I only said I did not want _you_ to have reasons to grieve for me. I figured it really mattered very little how much I cared about you if I didn’t weigh you down with that knowledge.” Felix rubbed his cold hands together. His voice was steady, but he could not pretend his nerves weren’t pulled tight as lire strings. “We haven’t known each other for long, but I think we have seen more of each other’s character than most. I don’t know much about your history, yet I think there are men in Tevinter whom I’ve talked to for ten years and I still couldn’t guess what they would do if put in the same position you were in.” He smiled. “I’m babbling. What I’m saying is that I think we have good reason to get to know each other better.”

“You’re so sensible. I love it,” Pavus answered, with the showy enthusiasm that told Felix that Pavus felt back on safe ground. He had to smile.

“I think I recall you calling it disgusting just n-”

Pavus kissed him and leaned back with his cat’s grin. “And I’ve already found a way to win arguments against you, anyway. Perfect.”

Felix chuckled. “I’ll concede that one, Dorian.”

They kissed for longer after that.

“I like how my name sounds in your mouth. I’ll have to give you reasons to say it very often,” Dorian said.

Felix smiled at the thought of getting to know him like this, as Dorian.

“I look forward to it,” he said.


End file.
